


Lost and Found

by notalwaysthevillian



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Anxiety, Blood, Childbirth, Emotional Manipulation, Food, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Kissing, Manipulative Deceit Sanders, Mpreg, Near Death Experiences, Revenge, Swearing, Tangled AU, Theft, Villain Deceit Sanders, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-07 19:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysthevillian/pseuds/notalwaysthevillian
Summary: Locked away in a tower, far away from his birth parents, lives Virgil. His only companion is a small chameleon named Emile, who hides whenever his Father comes along. He longs to see the floating lights. His Father tells him that if he ever left the tower, he would be dead in seconds.When a thief helps break Virgil out, he learns that everything he was ever told about the world is a lie. The world isn't full of ruffians and thugs. The floating lights aren't stars. And true love isn't just for fairy tales.Right?(Sanders Sides Tangled AU)





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Deceit is cast as Mother Gothel. He will be acting nearly identical to her in the movie, so if that bothers you, please don't read.

_ Long, long ago, in the days of old, a drop of starlight fell, as had been foretold. The drop was silver, this much is true, but the story begins here, for me and for you. _

 

A beautiful silver flower grew from where the drop landed and began to shine its light on everything around it.

Nearby, a man with the face of a snake observed the flower. Given its glow, it must have had a magical purpose. He approached it slowly, afraid that the beauty would shrink at the sight of his horrid affliction.

As he neared the flower, it began to shine brighter. The man stroked a petal with gentle fingers and began to sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the curse reverse. Bring back what once was mine.”

As he sang the incantation, the flower began to glow until the light itself was blinding. The man threw a hand up to shield his face. His eyes widened as he glanced at his hands.

The scales that he’d lived with for so long-they had vanished.

Reaching out, the man plucked a petal, hoping to store it for a later day. He let out a soft cry as the petal lost its silver color and faded to purple. He grabbed his basket, overturning the contents onto the ground before gently placing it over the flower.

No one would  _ ever _ take his flower away.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Food mention, implied sex, vomiting, blood, mpreg (it’s magic, I’m sorry), tiny mention of Deceit

“You called for me, your majesties?”

The court mage bowed with a flourish, his purple robes sweeping the floor. His action earned an eye roll from King Logan and a giggle from King Patton, as well as disapproving looks from the guards that stood on either side of him.

“Yes, Remy. Let’s cut to the chase.” Logan snapped. His patience had been worn thin while they’d waited for Remy to arrive.

“Of course, your majesty. I can see you are busy.” Remy pouted but gave Patton a sly wink.

“The reason we have requested an audience with you, Remy, is because we seek your...expertise in matters of magic.”

“Ooh, how exciting!” Remy rubbed his hands together, magic sparking across his fingertips. “How might I be of service?”

Logan sighed. This was a mistake. “We’d like an heir.”

There was a pause as Remy looked between the two of them. “Ah. Natural? Born from one of you?”

Patton nodded, beaming brightly, and Remy grinned. “I have just the potion for you! I’ll need some time to brew it, and it takes a few special ingredients, but I can have it by week’s end!”

Remy backed up, ready to leave. With a flick of Logan’s hand, the guards grabbed the mage, stopping him in his tracks.

“Not so fast. I have many questions.” Logan nodded, allowing the guards to release him.

Remy rubbed his arms, bowing to the king. “And I, of course, have all the answers, your majesty!”

Logan gave him a frown but softened as Patton squeezed his hand.

“I have a few questions. Are there side effects of this potion? Will the pregnancy be an average term? What happens afterward?” The questions sprouted out of Logan’s mouth as he let go of Patton’s hand and took a few steps forward.

Remy’s eyes widened at all of the questions. “I haven’t seen any reactions in handsome men, which means the two of you are safe. The only bad thing I’ve seen with men is that their pregnancies don’t last as long and the pain is awful. After, whoever took the potion will have their body return to how it was before. No stretch marks!”

Logan shook his head at Remy before turning to his husband. “Patton, I’m still worried about what this could do to you. Perhaps I should take this risk. That way if anything goes wrong-”

“I can handle it, Lo.” Patton insisted, reaching for Logan’s hand.

Logan pulled back. “I...I do not doubt you, Patton. But the risk..”

“What are the odds of me having a reaction to this potion?” Patton asked Remy, determination in his voice.

Remy shifted uncomfortably. “There’s a five percent chance, according to the elder.”

“Five percent?!” Logan cried as he stopped pacing and whirled on Remy. “That’s too much of a risk!”

“Lo, I’ll be fine,” Patton said reassuringly as he grabbed Logan’s wrist.

Logan tore his hand away, running it through his hair. “Patton, what if you are that five percent?”

“And what if I’m not?” Patton’s voice was a whisper, and his gaze dropped to the floor.

Logan looked at his husband, seeing the sadness in his eyes. He knew that Patton dreamed of having child of his own. They’d overseen the construction of the orphanage, and had often visited the children there. Every child in the kingdom loved Patton, and he loved them right back.

“The reaction rate of 5%...is there any way to lower that?” Logan asked, feeling Patton brighten beside him.

“Lock him up.”

Remy regretted his choice of words immediately as Logan turned to him, anger in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

The guards stepped closer to Remy, who threw his hands up and immediately began to backtrack. “Keep him away from others!”

“And reduce his risk of infection.” Logan relaxed slightly, as did the guards. He turned to Patton, a pleading look in his eyes. “Patton, what will everyone think if we lock you up in the castle?”

“No one has to know why I’m isolated. If we tell everyone it was recommended by the court mage, we won’t be questioned.” Patton slid his hand into Logan’s. “Just picture it, Lo. We could have an heir! A child to call our own, a baby to love and cherish! Our little star.”

Logan took one look at his husband’s hopeful face before his resolve crumbled. “Remy, is there any way to stop the potion’s effects once it has been taken?”

“There is the reversal potion. After a while its power is limited. Just like me!”

Logan ignored Remy, choosing to grab Patton’s hands instead. “I’ll agree to this on one condition. If  _ anything _ goes wrong, you take the reversal potion.”

Patton squealed, nodding as he threw his arms around Logan. “I promise!”

“You have our permission. Make the potion.” Logan commanded, keeping a stern face the best he could with Patton nuzzling into his neck.

“Alright, boys, that’s our cue to leave!” Remy announced, snapping his fingers. He vanished with the guards, leaving behind a cloud of purple smoke.

Once they were alone, Logan relaxed into Patton’s grip. 

Patton laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “You worry so much, Lo!”

“I have to worry to keep you safe, my sunshine.” Logan gave him a genuine smile, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Woah! King Logan! I’d save that kind of passion for after he drinks the potion.” Remy waggled his eyebrows.

Logan jumped away from Patton. “Wh-Remy what do you want?”

“Is there a particular flavor you want this potion to be?”

“Guards!”

* * *

King Logan knocked on his husband’s door, carefully balancing the tea tray in his hands. One of the servants had offered to carry it, but Logan had wanted to surprise Patton. He’d had a rough month with the pregnancy, so Logan had one of the cooks make some loganberry tea, along with some jam and toast. It was Patton’s favorite snack, and it was more than likely to cheer him up.

“Patton, my sunshine, I-”

Logan froze as he heard Patton heaving. He threw the door open, dropping the tray as he saw Patton vomiting into a flower pot by the window.

“Patton!”

Logan raced to his side and gently put a hand on his forehead, searching for a temperature. When he found none, his eyes flicked to the flower pot. His blood ran cold as he saw that Patton had been vomiting blood.

He picked his husband up and put him into bed, lying him on his side, before racing back to the door. As he threw it open, a servant walking by jumped.

“You! Find me a doctor immediately!”

The servant bowed. “Yes, your-”

“Just  _ go _ !” Logan screamed watching the servant scramble down the hallway. He slammed the door shut and flew back to Patton’s side.

Patton frowned at him before falling into a coughing fit. Logan grabbed a wastebasket, just in case, but nothing came out of Patton’s stomach.

“Lo, you didn’t have to be so harsh.” Patton reached his hand out. 

Logan grabbed it, holding back the tears in his eyes. “I know, but it will get a doctor in here faster. Now, what hurts?”

“I’m fi-”

Logan cut him off, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I think-I think it’s-”

A doctor burst into the room, unpacking her kit as she knelt on the rug. Logan got up to give her some space, anxiously pacing behind her.

“Well?! What is it?” Logan snapped after a few minutes of silence.

The doctor hesitated, before saying, “I don’t know. Magic is not something I’m familiar with.”

“You’d better learn quick!” Logan growled, opening the door once more. He pointed at one of the guards across the hall. “Find me Remy. NOW.”

Without hesitation, the guard took off. Another one took his place in seconds.

Logan spun around, facing the doctor. “Did you figure it out?”

“Your majesty, I can only make my best guess,” she practically whimpered, shrinking in on herself. “I believe that the king has contracted a fatal illness.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Logan!” Patton cried out, trying to raise himself on his elbows. He immediately fell back into the pillows, coughing his lungs out.

Logan shoved the doctor out of the way and took her place beside his husband. “I’m here.”

“You have to-” Another hacking fit made him pause. “You have to believe her. She knows what she’s doing.”

“If she’s telling me that you’re going to die, Pat, she’s  _ wrong _ !” Logan squeezed Patton’s hand. “She’s wrong.”

A whooshing noise and purple smoke filled the air. Logan whirled around, his anger flaring, as Remy appeared in the room.

“Your majesties-”

“What. Is. Happening.” Logan snapped. If looks could kill, Remy would’ve been a smoldering pile of ashes on the rug.

Remy looked over at Patton, his silly grin falling immediately as he took in the pale skin and glassy eyes of the king. He turned back to Logan, sorrow written all over his face. “Logan, he’s having a reaction to the potion.”

A light bulb seemed to go off in Logan’s head. “What if he takes the reversal potion? That has to help, right? You said-”

“It’s too late. It won’t have any effect.” Remy shook his head.

Logan clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with rage. Remy stumbled back, throwing his hands up in defense.

“My king, I’m sorry-I didn’t know he would have this violent of a reaction-it’s only happened once before-”

“WHAT?!” Logan just managed to keep from completely losing his temper.

“It was a female in a different village-I didn’t know it could happen to males-”

“Your majesty.” The doctor said quietly, pulling Logan’s attention from the stuttering mage in the corner.

Logan spun back around, clenching his teeth. “Yes?”

“Without a solution, the best I can do is ease his pain...he only has 3 days.”

“You can do better.” Logan glared a hole into the doctor.

Her hands shook as she pulled out a salve. “I-I can try.”

“WAIT A SEC!” Remy shouted, snapping his fingers. The illusion of a silver flower grew out of his hand. Patton made a small sound of awe before he began to cough once more.

Logan looked at Remy, quickly nearing the end of his patience. “What does a  _ flower  _ have to do with-”

“This is the starlight flower. According to the elders, it can cure any illness. It’s rumored to be able to bring someone back from the brink of death,” Remy spoke as fast as he could, worried that King Logan would dispute his claims. “Based on the position of the stars the night it was rumored to have been created, it should be located on the edge of the bay.”

“Corona Bay is 30 square miles, and we don’t even know  _ if this flower exists _ !” Logan advanced on Remy, only stopped by Patton’s hand brushing his fingers.

“Lo, the flower could be our only chance,” Patton whispered.

Logan brought Patton’s hand to his lips. “I refuse to believe that you’re dying.”

“Then there’s no harm in letting him search.” Patton rolled his head to look at Remy. “Take half the guard and look for the flower.”

Remy gave him a nod, backing toward the door.

“Remy, you have three days to find this flower,” Logan said, not bothering to turn around. “If you return without it, you’ll be executed.”

Remy left the room, shouting for the captain of the guard. Logan shot the doctor a glare, and she bolted for the door as well.

Hardly a second after the door closed, Logan collapsed next to Patton, tears streaming down his face as he began to sob.

“Lo,” Patton croaked out, running a hand through Logan’s hair. “I know you’re worried about me, but you were really harsh…”

“Y-your life, Pat,” Logan stuttered between sobs. “I trusted him with your LIFE!”

Patton drew in a shaky breath. “It’s...it’s okay. It’s the circle of life. All things die.”

“Not-not like this.” Logan clasped one of Patton’s hands in his, pressing his lips against the knuckles. “It can’t end like this.”

“I’d like to be buried by the sea...it would be nice.” Patton gazed out the window at the sunrise that painted the water gold.

Logan shook his head as more sobs escaped his lips. “No. Pat, you’re going to be fine. You-you’re going to live.”

“Lo, you know that’s not true. I’m dying.” This statement was punctuated by Patton vomiting once more into a pot that Logan held out. “The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can let me go.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Logan crawled into bed beside his husband. Patton opened his arms, letting Logan bury his face into his chest.

Hugging him tightly, he whispered, “I love you, my moon.”

“I love-l love you my sun.”


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Brief mention of Deceit, kissing, swear, brief mention of labor

Remy picked his way along the beach, getting increasingly desperate. His three days were almost up. The king was going to die on his watch, and he was going to have to flee the kingdom. His home.

The slightest glimmer of silver caught his eye, and his heart swelled with hope. He raced over, praying to every deity he knew.

Only to find a coin half buried in the sand.

With a cry of anguish, he sat down and leaned back, smacking his head on a…basket?

He turned around and overturned the basket, crying tears of joy as a brilliant silver flower came into view. He conjured up a spade and carefully dug around the roots of the flower, before placing it in the basket.

_“Ad regum!”_

Remy vanished in a puff of purple smoke, missing the yellow eyes watching him from the forest.

He reappeared in Patton’s bedroom, startling him and Logan awake as he began to mix the flower into an elixir. Logan’s eyes flew wide as the silver light filled the room.

“You-you found it.” He blinked in disbelief before tears slipped down his cheeks. “Patton, you’re going to live!”

All Patton could do was give a weak smile. His skin was nearing translucency, and the light that normally brightened his eyes had almost faded completely.

Remy worked as fast as he could, knowing that with each quaking breath, King Patton edged closer to the other side.

“Can you work any faster?” Logan snapped, running his hand through Patton’s hair. “Remy, I swear if he dies when we’re this close-”

“Done!”

Remy raced over to Patton, tipping his head back. He poured the silver elixir down Patton’s throat. Patton swallowed hard, his throat protesting in pain.

A trail of silver lit up Patton’s skin as the elixir ran down his throat. When it reached his stomach, a starburst appeared, before fading into his skin.

Gasping for air, Patton sat up immediately, the light coming back into his eyes. His skin regained its color as he pulled Remy into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Remy whispered back, before pulling away.

Logan grabbed Patton’s face and pulled him into a deep kiss. Patton sank into his embrace, winding his arms around Logan’s neck.

After a few moments, they pulled back, resting their foreheads together. They were both crying tears of joy.

“Remy,” Logan spoke, trying to sound as regal as he could as Patton began to place kisses all over his face. “I apologize for threatening to execute you. You have my eternal gratitude, as well as a share of our treasures.”

“No treasures needed, your majesty.” Remy waved a hand in the air. “Your gratitude is enough.”

Logan nodded, giving him a smile. “Thank you.”

With a snap of his fingers, Remy vanished from the room, leaving the two kings to themselves.

Logan began to pepper Patton in kisses, making him giggle as he asked, “Lo?”

“Hmm?”

“This is serious business!” Patton said, smiling as he looked into Logan’s eyes. “How far did you get with the nursery?”

Logan paled. “Oh, shi-”

“Come on!” Patton giggled, pulling his husband out of bed. “We’ve only got two months until this baby is due!”

The kings, with some help from Remy and a few servants, managed to get the nursery ready in time. Just as they’d put together the finishing touches, Patton went into labor.

Logan paced outside, wincing as he heard the pained cries. He wanted to do something, anything, but the doctor had kicked him out, claiming that he was distracting her.

Remy hovered close to Logan, waiting in case his magic was needed.

“Are you ready to be a father?”

Logan looked up at the mage. “I would like to believe so. I’ve read all of the books and asked my own parents for advice, as well as Patton’s parents. And some things can only be learned by experien-why are you grinning at me?”

The grin on Remy’s face just got bigger. “Because you’re more than ready.”

“That-that doesn’t make any logical sense,” Logan sputtered.

Remy just gave him a shrug. “Parenthood doesn’t.”

Thirteen hours later, Patton was holding a baby boy with silver hair.

Patton cooed as he held the bundle close. “Lo, he’s beautiful. Our little star.”

Logan looked at his child and felt tears begin to leak out of his eyes. He had imagined this ever since he’d proposed. He hadn’t felt this happy since their wedding day.

“-him?” Patton’s voice pulled Logan out of his thoughts.

“Sorry,” he said, giving Patton a smile. “What did you say?”

“What do you think we should name him? I know we had a few names picked out, but we said we would decide when we saw him.” Patton looked down at their son, who stared up at him with big, brown eyes.

“Virgil.” Logan brushed his fingers through the baby’s soft hair. “He looks like a Virgil.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” Patton yawned, lifting Virgil over the lower half of his face to cover it. “Lo, do you want to hold him?”

“Hold-you want me to-the baby?” Logan stuttered.

“Yeah, here, just-” Patton started to hand the baby over, stopping when Logan’s rolled up as he fell into a dead faint. “Or… I can hang on to him…Doctor!”

The doctor rushed in. “Yes, my king? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just tired. I’m afraid my husband has been overwhelmed.” Patton said, before shifting his hold on the baby. “Could you ring the gathering bell?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She said, before looking to the floor. “Would you like assistance for King Logan?”

“No, I’ve got him. Thank you, Lynette.” Patton gave her a smile as she walked out the door. He climbed out of bed and, making sure to be mindful of Virgil, pulled him up into a kiss.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled as Patton and their son filled his vision. “Did I pass out?”

“Yes, but it’s alright. Now, come. We’ve got a lantern to launch.”

Logan helped Patton stand, and the two of them headed out to the balcony. Remy was waiting, holding onto a golden lantern emblazoned with the image of a starburst.

“It’s about time you got here!” He said, grinning at the kings.

Logan shook his head. “Remy, Patton just went through 13 hours of-”

“I wasn’t talking to either of you,” Remy said, gently booping Virgil on the nose. “I was talking to him.”

Patton beamed at his son, before looking at Remy. “You’re absolutely right. It is about time he got here.”

“Shall we?” Logan asked, taking the lantern from Remy.

Virgil cooed in Patton’s arms, clenching his fist a few times.

Patton gasped, his eyes snapping to Logan’s. “Lo, look! He’s waving!”

Logan smiled and held out his hand. Patton took it, and the two stepped further out onto the balcony. Their subjects cheered as they came into view, and many ‘aw’s could be heard as the crowd got their first glimpse of the new prince.

Logan and Patton lifted the lantern, allowing it to fly into the sky. Their subjects did the same, lighting the night like a thousand small stars.

Virgil cooed again before his blinking slowed and he gave a tiny yawn.

“Pat, he’s exhausted, and I’m sure you are too.” Logan looped his arm through Patton’s. “We should head to bed.”

“Just one second, Lo,” Patton said, before turning to Virgil. “Virgil, all of these lanterns are for you! We’re going to light them every year, just so you know how special you are.”

“Patton, he can’t understand you. He’s a baby.” Logan shook his head, but there was a fond smile on his face.

Patton allowed himself to be taken back into the castle. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll tell him every year until he understands, and every year after that.”

Logan gave Patton a kiss on the forehead. “He’ll know how much you love him.”

After putting Virgil to bed in the nursery, Patton and Logan fell asleep, dreaming of their new life.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Manipulative Deceit, revenge, disguise, mention of labor, knife, kidnapping, babying

Over the years, Dorian had become addicted to the flower. It was the only thing that reversed his wretched curse. The only thing that kept him human.

If only he hadn’t been caught as a spy. His master had been furious, insisting that if he was going to act as a snake, he may as well be one. If he hadn’t already begun his escape incantation…he didn’t want to think about how far gone he would be now.

He took extra caution with his flower, making sure to hide it after each use. No one would take his flower away, he would make sure of it.

It would’ve been easier if he stopped using the flower, and figured out the counter-curse on his own, but it was far too late now. Nothing would stop this curse. Nothing but his flower.

He couldn’t resist the euphoric feeling the flower gave him. The feeling of life, a feeling he hadn’t felt since his youth. It was too much, giving him withdrawal symptoms too quickly.

But he never expected the royals to find his flower. Certainly not so soon.

Hearing someone powering through the brush on the beach, Dorian threw the basket haphazardly over his flower and darted off into the trees. He stayed close enough to see his flower, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen.

As he watched, a mage stumbled onto the beach, looking around frantically. The man dove into the sand, digging with his hands. He pulled out a coin and looked devastated. After a moment he leaned back, hitting his head on Dorian’s basket.

Dorian’s eyes flew wide as the man tossed the basket away. The man started crying and conjured a spade. Dorian could only watch, pained as the man took his beautiful flower away. The mage then shouted something and disappeared.

_Ad regum._

The king.

Of course. He’d heard a rumor that one of the kings had been locked in the castle. He must’ve had a serious illness that only the flower could cure.

Dorian charged through the forest, making a desperate plan. That mage was going to regret taking his flower away. He would cross any line to get it back, even if it meant killing the king.

He disguised himself as a servant just before entering the gates. The guards waved him through with ease, causing Dorian to hold in his laughter at their stupidity. He entered the castle, picked up a duster and stalked toward the king’s chambers.

“Did you hear? King Patton is saved!”

“That means the heir is too.”

The heir.

A grin spread slowly over Dorian’s face as a much better plan formed in his head.

He would get his flower back.

Over the next two months, he successfully managed to infiltrate the palace staff. He kept his head low and did as he was asked, occasionally calling upon his own magic to help him.

As more days passed, more of his scales came back. If the baby wasn’t born soon, he would be lost to the curse, having spent his last days as a servant.

It disgusted him.

Finally,  _finally_ , the day arrived. King Patton had been whisked off to his room in the early hours of the morning. Dorian hovered as close as he dared to the king’s chambers. He was nearly run over by the mage at one point. Luckily the mage didn’t spare a second glance.

_The idiot._

After that encounter, Dorian stayed a floor below the kings. He could hear everything in the room below, which happened to be a storage closet. He’d taken it upon himself to relieve the servant stuck with organizing duty. She had thanked him profusely, as she much preferred dusting, and couldn’t stand the cries of the king in pain.

As the day neared its end, the screams above stopped. Dorian listened hard, but he could hear no more.

The heir had arrived.

Biding his time, he waited for the kings to retire to their bedroom. He found the doctor, the one called Lynette, feeding the baby.

“Pardon me, miss, but one of the servant girls has asked for you. I’m afraid that she has eaten some bad fish. One of the other girls tells me that she’s been in the washroom for the better part of an hour.” He rasped, disguising his voice.

“The cook warned everyone that the fish was bad.” Lynette shook her head, looking down at the baby and back at Dorian. “Sir, I’m terribly sorry, but could you finish feeding Virgil? I will make sure that you do not get in trouble for shirking your duties.”

“Of course, ma’am. Anything for the heir.” Dorian just managed to keep the smirk off his face as the heir,  _Virgil_ , was handed to him.

“Thank you,” the doctor said, before rushing out of the room.

Dorian conjured a knife, slicing off the barest hint of hair.

To his horror, the silver color faded immediately, replaced with brown.

“No. No!” He whispered, throwing the knife at the wall. It stuck with only a small thud.

The gears turned in Dorian’s mind and gave him a solution. He snapped his fingers, conjuring his basket, and placed the heir, Virgil, inside. The baby’s eyes were sliding shut as he did so.

Dorian covered him with a blanket, before rearranging the pillows in the bassinet. He would be out the front gates before they even knew Virgil was gone.

He scurried down the servant’s hallway, nodding to the others. No one suspected anything from the loyal servant who’d been at the castle for months.

As he neared the gates, his heart began to beat faster. Almost there. Almost-

Shouts of alarm rang through the castle as he opened the gate. Fear filled his chest as he disappeared into the forest, heading for the old, crumbling tower he had lived in as a child.

Locking himself in the tower, he put the basket down and lifted Virgil out. If this didn’t work, at least he had ruined the lives of the kings who had stolen his precious flower.

The baby squirmed in his arms until Dorian opened his mouth and began to sing. The man prayed to every deity he could think of that his plan would work.

_“Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the curse reverse, bring back what once was mine.”_

As his deep baritone rang hauntingly around the room, Virgil’s hair began to glow. Dorian’s eyes widened as he watched, forgetting to continue until the glow started to slightly fade.

 _“Heal what has been hurt. Change the fate’s design. Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine.”_  Dorian paused, taking in a deep breath.

_“What once was mine.”_

The familiar euphoric feeling returned. Dorian felt his scales receding as his skin smoothed out. He looked out the window, toward the barely visible castle in the distance and grinned.

As the years passed, Virgil grew into a fine young man with a beautiful voice. When he reached the age of 5, Dorian taught him the song. He requested that Virgil sing it once a day, otherwise thieves would come and steal him right out of the tower.

Virgil grew up absolutely terrified of leaving the tower, just as Dorian had planned. When Virgil was 13, he asked if he could simply head down to the creek. Dorian had taught him all the dangers of hypothermia, and Virgil never asked to leave again.

Instead, Virgil stayed in the tower. Dorian bought him a few books-one on botany, one on geology, and one on cooking.

Virgil read through the books carefully, learning which flowers were poisonous, which types of rocks were the hardest (and were therefore more likely to hurt him), and how to cook everything perfectly so there was no chance of food poisoning.

Dorian continued to have Virgil sing to him daily as he got older. After nearly 18 years of singing, he figured out that he could leave for up to 4 days now before the curse took hold. Over those years, Virgil had taught himself all sorts of skills, such as cleaning, sewing, ballet, and many others.

Virgil had also taught himself art.

Dorian had noticed the walls start to become covered in paintings, but he said nothing. His flower needed to rely on him so that he would stay in the tower.

In fact, he criticized the art, despite the fact that it was breathtaking.

“Father, what do you think?” Virgil asked biting his lip. He didn’t make eye contact with Dorian, something the man had ingrained into him.

Dorian’s eyes raked over the painting, searching for a flaw and finding none.

“Your colors are muddied.” He deadpanned, running a finger through the still drying paint. He heard Virgil gasp behind him as he smeared the paint. “And the creek is flowing the wrong way.”

Virgil made a noise of protest behind him.

Dorian whirled around, sending Virgil scrambling toward the wall. The young boy tripped over his hair, falling to the floor.

“Do you doubt me?” He asked, his tone icy.

Virgil shook his head. “N-no, sir.”

Dorian gave him a nod, before grabbing the stool. “Good. Now sit.”

Virgil did as he was told, handing Dorian a brush. “F-father, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh?” Dorian began to run a brush through Virgil’s long flowing hair. Virgil hadn’t asked for anything since he was 13. “Sing for me first, Virgil.”

“Flowergleamandglow,letyourpowershine,” Virgil sang as quickly as possible. Dorian protested, but Virgil continued. “Makethecursereverse,bringbackwhatoncewasmine. Healwhathasbeenhurt,changethefatesdesign,savewhathasbeenlost, bringbackwhatoncewasmine. Whatoncewasmine.”

Dorian barely managed to run the brush through Virgil’s hair, sweeping the magic into himself. Virgil turned to face him, a smile on his face. It morphed into a grimace of fear as Dorian frowned at him.

“Next time, you will sing at a regular speed. Understood?” Dorian threw the brush at Virgil.

It hit the boy in the chest, hard, and he scrambled to catch it. “Y-yes Father.”

“Now, what was it you were going to ask me?” Standing in front of the mirror, Dorian began to examine his face, making sure the scales weren’t coming back.

Virgil darted across the room, pulling back a curtain, revealing another impeccable painting on the wall. It showed Virgil, sitting on the windowsill, gazing out at blobs of yellow that floated through the sky.

“I-I was hoping that-could you-”

“Virgil, you know I hate stuttering. Out with it.” Dorian turned back to the mirror, keeping an eye on the boy’s reflection.

“I want to see the floating lights!”

Dorian turned around, examining the blobs in the painting once more. “Virgil, I thought you knew better than this. Those are stars.”

“I’ve charted stars,” Virgil started, swinging his hair up to open the skylight. Beams of sunshine lit up a star chart on the opposite wall. “They’re always constant. These lights, they only appear once a year. On my birthday. I just-I can’t help but think that maybe they’re meant for me. I need to see them. In person, not from the window. Please.”

It was rare for Virgil to stand up for himself.

Dorian hated it.

“You want to go outside?” He moved towards the window and closed it. Virgil wouldn’t be content to simply sit and listen to him lecture, so Dorian began to sing. “Why, Virgil-

_“Look at you as fragile as a flower, still a little sapling, just a sprout. You know why we stay up in this tower-”_

Virgil cut him off. “I know, but-”

“That’s right. _To keep you safe and sound dear.”_ Dorian interrupted, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as he moved toward the window.

 _“Guess I always knew this day was coming.”_  He sang, closing the curtain.  _“Knew that soon you’d want to leave the nest! Soon, but not yet-”_

“But-”

“Shh!” Dorian made a grabbing motion with his hand, and Virgil fell silent.  _“Trust me, pet. Father knows best.”_

He punched one of the wooden beams, activating the pulley that closed the skylight. Virgil gasped as the room plunged into darkness.

A light filled the room as Virgil lit a candle. Dorian crept up behind him.

_“Father knows best, listen to your Father, it’s a scary world out there.”_

Virgil let out a yelp and scrambled backwards as Dorian appeared in the light, his hands held above him like claws. Dorian vanished into the darkness again, tugging on Virgil’s hair before looping it around a hook.

Virgil began to tug back on his hair as Dorian snuck around to his back.

_“Father knows best, one way or another, something will go wrong I swear!”_

He caught Virgil as he fell into the one spot of light in the room, before darting back into the shadows.

 _“Ruffians, thugs,”_ Dorian sang, using his magic to make shadow puppets realistic enough to terrify Virgil.  _“Poison ivy, quicksand.”_

 _“Cannibals and snakes,”_  he flipped a voodoo doll in a frying pan, emphasizing his point, before snapping his fingers and changing it into a lantern with an eerie green glow.  _“The plague.”_

“No!” Virgil cried out, starting to sink into his hair.

“Yes.”

“But-”

 _“Also large bugs.”_  Snapping his fingers again, a portrait of his true self appeared on the floor.  _“Men with pointy teeth. And stop! No more, you’ll just upset me.”_

Virgil wound his hair around himself and lit another candle, quaking with fear. Dorian grabbed the boy, afraid that he would catch his hair on fire, and pulled him to his feet.

 _“Father’s right here. Father will protect you.”_  Virgil threw his arms around Dorian. Disgusted by this, Dorian quickly switched places with a mannequin, appearing at the top of the stairs, summoning lit candles for effect.  _“Darling here’s what I suggest! Skip the drama, stay with papa. Faaatheeeer knows best!”_

He let out a low chuckle, sweeping his cape around himself to plunge Virgil into darkness once more. He continued to sing as he walked behind the boy, putting out the candles behind him.

_“Father knows best, take it from your popsy, on your own you won’t survive.”_

He saw Virgil heading towards the mirror and grabbed the back of it, tipping it downward.

 _“Sloppy, underdressed,”_  Dorian moved out from behind the mirror, tugging on Virgil’s hair once more,  _“immature, clumsy. Please, they’ll eat you up aliveeeeeee!”_

He rolled Virgil up in his hair tightly, keeping the boy tied up.  _“Gullible, naive. Positively grubby.”_

Grabbing one end, he yanked. Virgil spun around as he unraveled, stumbling around the room.  _“Ditzy and a bit…well, hmm, vague.”_

 _“Plus, I believe, getting kinda chubby. I’m just saying cuz I wuv you,”_ Dorian sang, pressing Virgil’s cheeks together, treating him like a child. Virgil’s face flushed with embarrassment as Dorian let go and walked back into the darkness.

 _“Father understands, Father’s here to help you.”_  Virgil looked around, whimpering. Dorian took pity on the boy and opened the skylight, standing where Virgil could see him.  _“All I have is one requeeeestttt.”_

Virgil looked relieved and sprinted over, throwing himself into Dorian’s arms. Though he looked at the boy with disdain, Dorian let him have his moment.

Dorian petted Virgil’s hair. “Virgil?”

“Yes?” Virgil said, his eyes bright with hope.

Dorian put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly, before looking at him with complete sincerity. “Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again.”

The hope fled from Virgil’s eyes in an instant, replaced with tears. He looked down to the floor. “Yes, Father.”

“Oh, I love you very much, dear,” Dorian said, tilting Virgil’s head up to see if any tears had fallen. He’d discovered early on that Virgil’s tears also contained magic.

Virgil’s face was clear as he looked up, repeating what had been conditioned into him. “I love you more.”

“I love you most,” Dorian said, kissing Virgil’s hair.

_“Don’t forget it. You’ll regret it. Father knows best.”_


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Theft, near death scenario

The rickety shingles on the castle roof rattled as a man slid down them before hopping onto a ledge. The mighty Roland King darted across the rooftops, easily avoiding detection from the guards below. He looked down through the skylight, grinning as he saw the sparkling crown inside.

Two loud thuds behind him made Roland sigh.

“Guys, can you attempt to be quieter? We don’t want the whole kingdom to know that we’re here.” He hissed, glaring at the brutes.

Instead of thanking him for his input, as they should have done, the Stabbington brothers headed over to the skylight and started prying it open.

Roland huffed, crossing his arms and turning. His breath left him as he gazed out at the view. White, puffy clouds moved across a gorgeous blue sky. Rolling waves lapped gently at the shore, sending the children back up the beach. He could almost hear their shrieks of joy.

As he took it all in, he smiled softly.“I could get used to a view like this.”

“Roland! Come on!”

As he spun around, Roland put on his signature smirk. “Guys, I want a castle.”

“We do this job, you can buy your own castle.” One of the brothers-either Steele or Creed, he really couldn’t tell them apart-said as they yanked Roland over by the collar.

The other brother looped the rope around his waist and shoved him through the skylight. Roland tumbled into the throne room, holding his breath as the rope was pulled taut. The brothers lowered him quickly.

Roland looked over and saw a row of guards facing the other way. He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he reached out and took the tiara.

As he gently placed it in his bag, the guard closest to him sneezed.

Tugging on the rope, Roland asked, sympathetically, “Hay fever?”

“Yeah,” the guard responded, not turning around.

Roland let out a laugh as he was pulled back up. The guards didn’t even turn around until he had already been pulled through the skylight and cut free from the rope.

The brothers took off, with Roland right behind them. The three of them retraced their steps on the roof, sliding down the opposite end to land on the streets. They raced down a few side alleyways before running down the main road, leaving the kingdom behind with ease.

“Can’t you picture me in a castle of my own?” Roland asked the brothers as he passed them. “Because I certainly can. All the things we’ve seen, and it’s only eight in the morning! Gentlemen, this is a very big day!”

Soon after they’d reached the cover of the forest, Roland slowed his pace. Panting, he looked up and groaned at what caught his eye. “Oh, come on!”

“What?” One of the brothers snapped, trying to regain his breath.

Roland snatched the poorly drawn poster off of the tree and held it up to his face. “They can’t get my nose right!”

“Who cares?” The other brother asked. The two stood tall once more, having caught their breath.

Rolling his eyes, Roland gestured to their wanted poster. “Easy for you to say! You guys look amazing.”

The neighing of a horse made Roland jump. He turned to see a group of guards on the cliff. Stuffing the poster in his satchel, he ran after the brothers once more.

He sailed through the forest, jumping over roots and ducking under branches. The great Roland King could not be stopped!

Unless he ran himself into a dead end.

“All right,” he said, looking up. The cliff wasn’t that tall. “If you give me a boost, I can pull you up.”

The brothers shared a look. “Give us the satchel first.”

Roland gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “After all that we’ve been through together. The planning, the stealing, the escaping-you don’t trust me?”

The brothers gave him a deadpan stare before one of them held out his hand.

“Fine.” Roland handed over the satchel, watching as one of the brother’s looped it loosely over his shoulder. “Now boost me.”

The brothers formed a step with their hands. Roland stepped up, pretending to brace himself on one of their shoulders. He quickly slipped the satchel off as they launched him to the top of the cliff. He rolled as he landed, careful not to break anything.

“Now pull us up!”

Roland looked down, giving the brothers a cheeky grin. “Sorry. My hands are full.”

He held up the satchel for a brief moment before running off. His name echoed angrily through the trees.

Laughing, he headed left, only to see the guards approaching. He scrambled, heading a different direction as the guards began to gain on him.

A root blocked the road, and Roland slid underneath. Jumping to his feet, he winced as a trio of arrows embedded themselves in the root where his head had been.

Continuing through the forest, he ducked and weaved as more arrows were shot. Seeing a gnarled tree up ahead, Roland took his opportunity and dove through the twisted branches. Turning back around, he saw that only one guard was still after him, and he was gaining fast.

Taking a leap of faith, Roland grabbed a vine and used his momentum to swing around a tree. A grin appeared on his face as he managed to pull off the maneuver. He kicked the guard off his horse, Roland grabbed a few of his arrows and took his place. Flicking the reins, he urged the horse forward.

Instead of continuing to run, the horse stopped dead in its tracks, nearly launching him off. Roland kicked its sides, glaring at the animal.

“Come on! Move!”

The horse’s eyes landed on the satchel. Roland pulled it back, but he wasn’t fast enough. The horse closed its teeth around it and pulled, attempting to free it from Roland’s grasp.

“No! Give it back!” He cried out, tugging on the satchel. “I can’t lose this to a  _horse_.”

The horse seemed to take offense to that and tugged harder. The satchel flung from both of their grips, landing on a branch nearby.

A branch that hung over the edge of the cliff.

Without sparing a glance at the horse, Roland lunged for the satchel, only for the horse to bite his shirt and yank him back. The horse leapt over him with ease. He dove forward, knocking the horse over and scrambling onto the branch.

The stupid horse tried to bite him again, and Roland lost his footing. He slid over the side of the branch but managed to hang onto it. His guardians had always told him that he was their little monkey.

A hoof landed right where his hand had been. Gaping at the horse, who seemed to be not entirely stupid, Roland avoided the horse’s hooves as he crawled forward, grabbing the satchel just before it slipped off the branch.

A loud crack echoed through the valley and made his blood turn to ice.

The branch broke free from the side of the cliff, sending Roland and the horse down. The two looked at each other before screaming and neighing.

A rock broke the branch in two, sending Roland one way and the horse another.

After landing in a tree, Roland jumped down and patted himself down, checking himself for injury. He was perfectly fine, despite having fallen about forty feet.

Hearing sniffing noises, Roland ducked behind a rock. The horse passed by and he stepped backwards. As he put a hand out to lean on the wall, he fell through a curtain of ivy. A confused noise left his mouth before he could stop himself.

The horse got closer, so Roland ducked into the ivy, pressing himself into the wall. Hopefully, since he didn’t know that it wasn’t a wall, the horse wouldn’t either.

A grin spread over his face as the horse passed. He was free now.

Of course, he’d have to find another way home.

Roland walked down the short tunnel, only to gasp as he entered a clearing.

The clearing was full of gorgeous foliage that Roland had never seen before. Flowers of all colors, shapes, and sizes grew around the edges. Water poured down from the river, creating a beautiful waterfall that reflected a rainbow towards the tower that rose from the center.

He walked towards the tower, his eyes trailing up the ivy that climbed the sides. Some of the bricks had come loose, but it was still in excellent condition.

As he stood below, he heard a clatter that couldn’t have come anywhere but inside.

He had to know what, or who, it was.

Pulling out the arrows he’d stolen from the guard, Roland began to climb up the side of the tower. He stabbed the arrows in between the bricks, carefully lifting himself and finding his footing before he dared to move.

Halfway up the tower, one of his arrows snapped. Roland knew his weight wouldn’t hold with the second arrow, and lept to the ivy as the remains of his arrows fell to the ground below. Swallowing hard, Roland began to move a little faster.

After a rigorous climb, he dragged himself in the window and closed the shutters. He looked around for the source of the noise, shrugging when he saw no one.

He slipped the satchel off, opened it and gazed at the crown inside.

“I can’t believe I did it.”

The floor creaked before pain exploded from the back of his head the world went black.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manipulative Deceit

The vibrations of the frying pan rattled Virgil’s bones. He let out a shriek and darted behind a curtain as his victim fell to the ground.

When it was evident that the intruder was out cold, Virgil crept forward, holding the frying pan out at arm’s length. The man had already scared him once. Virgil certainly hadn’t been expecting someone to roll through his window, unaided by his hair, as he’d been cleaning his brushes.

Heart beating in his throat, Virgil poked the man with the frying pan.

No movement.

Turning, Virgil glanced at his only friend in the world, a chameleon he’d dubbed ‘Emile.’ Emile shrugged, not having any clue what to do in this situation either.

_ Of course he wouldn’t. He’s a chameleon. _

Reaching out with his hand, Virgil rolled the man over. His breath caught as the man twitched. Freezing, Virgil waited a few moments, but the man didn’t move again.

Hearing a growl from Emile, Virgil turned. The chameleon pointed at the monster face Father had drawn before turning red and miming fangs.

Fangs that his intruder could have.

Swallowing hard, Virgil used the handle of the frying pan to show the man’s teeth. Instead of finding fangs, he simply found perfect white teeth. Using the handle once more, he flipped the hair out of the man’s eyes.

_ He’s gorgeous. _

Leaning over the man, Virgil’s mind whirled through a million fantasies. Was this  _ his _ prince charming?

_ He broke into your tower. He’s probably here to kill you. Snap out of it. _

The man’s eyes fluttered open then, causing Virgil to panic and hit him once more with the frying pan. He winced as the man dropped back to the floor with a dull thump.

Then he began to panic.

“Emile, what do I do?” He hissed, turning to the chameleon. “If Father finds him here, he’ll surely kill him. And he doesn’t even have sharp teeth. I can’t let him die!”

The chameleon gave him a knowing look, and if he could’ve raised an eyebrow, he would’ve.

“I am not in love with him, I barely know the man! You can’t love someone you just met,” he muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the unconscious body on the floor.

A squeak from Emile got Virgil’s attention. The chameleon lifted a hand and pointed toward the wardrobe. Virgil didn’t really know why he had it, as he only had two outfits that he wore.

“What if Father finds him?” Virgil asked, gently sliding onto the floor and wrapping his arms around his knees.

The chameleon shook his head, pointing to the wardrobe with more fervor.

Virgil took in a deep breath, calming himself down before he jumped to his feet. He gently rolled the man onto his back before wedging him into a sitting position with a chair. Working quickly, he wound his hair around the man and dragged him over to the wardrobe.

It took several failed attempts, one of which resulted in the man falling out of the wardrobe  _ on top of him _ , before Virgil successfully managed to hide the intruder. Of course, he’d slammed the door on the man’s fingers, but he’d think about that later.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Virgil said, pacing in front of his mirror. Emile sat on the ground in front of it, watching Virgil go back and forth.

“I have a person in my closet. I mean, hopefully he’s not  _ in _ the closet-what am I  _ SAYING _ ?!”

Virgil grabbed the mirror suddenly, causing it to tilt. A glimmer caught his eye. Something was sparkling in the man’s bag.

Grabbing a broom, Virgil tilted the bag over with the handle. He didn’t want a snake or a spider or something equally terrifying to come out.

Instead of a scary thing, out rolled a small tiara. It was adorned with what appeared to be diamonds and sapphires. The band was as silver as his hair, nearly blending in when Virgil placed it on his head.

Tilting his head, Virgil began to admire how he looked in the mirror.

“Virgil!”

His blood turned to ice as the voice of Father echoed up to the window of the tower. He scrambled, hiding the satchel in a flower pot before throwing the shutters open and dropping his hair down.

“I have a surprise for you!”

Virgil tugged Father up the side of the tower, glancing back at the wardrobe, heart hammering in his chest. As long as the man stayed knocked out, everything would be fine.

“I absolutely didn’t run across a patch of wild strawberries,” Dorian said as he climbed through the window, holding out a basket filled to the brim with the fruit. “Perhaps I’ll make strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert...or perhaps not.”

“Thank you, Father,” Virgil said, winding his hair through his fingers as he struggled to avoid looking at the wardrobe. “That’s very kind of you.”

Dorian’s gaze cut right through Virgil. “You seem nervous.”

“What? No, of course not!” Heart thumping in his chest, Virgil didn’t dare look up. He felt Father Dorian circling around him.

“Is this about the fight-pardon me, the...argument we had earlier?” A small nod from Virgil was enough for Dorian to continue. “Oh, my sweet. You know that I hate to leave after a disagreement. Especially if it wasn’t my fault. Leaving this tower would be detrimental to your health, dear.”

“What if I didn’t go far?”

_ That’s it, Virgil, distract him. _

Dorian grabbed the basket and began to unload the strawberries. “Virgil, I thought we dropped this.”

Taking a deep breath, Virgil continued. “Even if I could just watch from the meadow just outside-”

“We’re done talking about this.” Closing the basket, Dorian turned to face Virgil, a look of warning in his eyes.

“Or even from the roof-”

“ENOUGH!”

The shout rattled the windows and made Virgil shrink into his hair. Dorian glared at the boy, walking toward him.

“You are never leaving this tower. Do you understand this?”

As his eyes filled with tears, Virgil nodded.

Dorian sighed, before dropping into a chair. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“I-I understand.” Virgil sat down on the floor in front of his father. “Can-May I ask for something special for my birthday?”

“You may.”

“Could I get new paint? From the white shells you found by the shore?”

Sitting up, Dorian gave Virgil an exasperated look. “My dear, you know that’s a long trip. A three-day journey.”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll lock myself in the tower, and I won’t make a single sound,” Virgil promised, giving Father his best puppy dog eyes. “I-I just hoped it was a better idea than the stars.”

Rising from his seat, Dorian pulled Virgil close and kissed his hair. “You’ll stay in the tower?”

“Yes.”

“Pack me some food for the journey. I’ll go get ready.”

Within the hour, Virgil had packed Dorian enough food for just over a three days. Dorian pulled on his cloak as Virgil handed him the basket and threw his hair over the hook.

“I’ll be back in three days’ time,” Dorian reminded Virgil as he began to be lowered down. “And remember-do not leave this tower.”

“I won’t,” Virgil promised, crossing his fingers behind his back.

He waited until Father had vanished from sight before darting back into the tower. Grabbing his frying pan, he headed over to the wardrobe. He carefully removed the chair before opening the door with his hair.

The man fell out, still completely unconscious. Virgil winced as he landed flat on his face.

Working painfully slowly, Virgil sat the man up in the chair and tied him up with his hair. Emile crawled up the man and sat on his shoulder, trying to wake him up in various ways.

A slap to the face did nothing. The same with a poke to the cheek.

It was a tongue in the ear that finally startled the man awake.

Virgil watched as Emile dropped to the ground. Before he could do anything, he heard the man speak.

“Is this...hair?”

The man’s gaze drifted to Virgil’s hiding spot. Virgil ducked deeper into the shadows, calling out, “Strug-struggling is pointless!”

Seeing the man’s confused face, Virgil let out a small sigh. He climbed down to the floor, taking care to stay in the shadows.

“I know why you’re here. And I’m not afraid of you!”

The man’s eyes searched the darkness. “If you’re not afraid, then why are you hiding in the shadows?”

A surge of defiance that Virgil didn’t know he had made him step into the light. He couldn’t help but smirk as the man looked him up and down appreciatively.

“Who are you?” Virgil asked as he walked toward the man. “And how did you find me?”

The man stuttered, unable to speak.

Virgil raised the frying pan threateningly. “Who are you and how did you find me?”

The man cleared his throat. Virgil didn’t even drop the frying pan an inch.

“I may not know who you are, and you may not know me, but know this-you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

The man punctuated this with a dazzling smile that nearly had Virgil dropping the frying pan. Instead, he raised it higher, attempting to keep the blush out of his cheeks.

“No? That usually works.” The man was clearly frustrated. “Look, my name is Roland King. Call me Ro if you like.”

“Well, Ro, does anyone else know my location?” If no one else knew where he was, then Virgil would be safe. He just had to get this guy to promise to never reveal where the tower was. Then Roland could go free, and everything could go back to normal.

_ Is that what I really want? _

“Alright, Silver-”

“Virgil.”

Roland raised an eyebrow. “Your name is  _ Virgil _ ?”

In response, Virgil swung the frying pan, stopping just an inch from Ro’s face. He got the hint and continued.

“I was in a...situation. An evil horse was chasing me through the forest. I tried to hide and found this place.”

A horrified look came over Roland’s face, and he began looking around. “I had a bag-where is my satchel?”

“I hid it,” Virgil said with a smirk.

“It’s in that pot, isn’t it?”

Panicking, Virgil smacked Roland with the pan and knocked him out again. Emile climbed up to his shoulder as he grabbed the satchel and pried up one of the floorboards of the stairs-a hiding place he’d used when he was younger. He carefully placed the satchel inside and resecured the board, just moments before Roland woke up.

“ _ Now _ it’s hidden where you can’t find it,” Virgil said, before he began to pace around Roland. “So, what are you here for? My hair? Are you going to cut it?”

“What?”

“Sell it, perhaps?”

“No!” Roland tugged at the hair restraints. “Listen, the only thing I want to do with your hair is to get out of it. Literally! Wow, that’s a pun that the king would appreciate.”

Virgil stopped, moving around to the front of Roland. “You don’t want my hair?”

“Why would I?!” If he’d been able to, Roland would’ve thrown his hands in the air. “I was being chased through the forest. I fell through some ivy, saw this tower, heard a noise, and climbed it. End of story.”

“Heard a-you heard me break the-nevermind. You swear that you’re telling the truth?”

“ _ YES. _ ”

Emile scampered down his arm and stood on the outstretched pan, looking Roland in the eyes. The man leaned backwards, away from the lizard as Emile pointed his tail at him. Virgil pulled him away, the lizard staring at the man until Virgil put him in his hands and turned around.

Emile squeaked, his tail pointing to the stars.

Virgil looked over his shoulder at the man. His eyes landed on the dagger in his belt, a danger that he must’ve overlooked.

But if Roland was going to use it, he would’ve done so already. Right?

“You think he’d take me?”

Emile squeaked again.

“He has to be telling the truth. I don’t see how he could find this place otherwise. And he doesn’t have fangs, so he can’t be too dangerous.”

Virgil sighed, turning back to his prisoner and placing Emile on his shoulder. “Okay, Roland King. I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Look this way.” Tugging on his hair, Virgil spun the man around as he climbed up to the painting of the floating lights. “Do you know what these are?”

“You mean the lantern thing they do for the prince?” Roland’s voice was muffled as he was pressed face-first to the floor.

Virgil gave his hair another tug, setting Roland upright.

_ I knew it. They couldn’t have been stars. _

Virgil rolled his shoulders back and faced Ro. “Tomorrow the sky will be filled with these lanterns. I ask that you act as my guide and take me to see them. After, you will return me here, and I will give you back your satchel. That is my offer.”

“Would if I could. But I can’t,” Roland said, explaining as Emile fixed him with a glare. “I’m not on great terms with the kingdom at the moment. So...I can’t take you anywhere.”

Virgil leapt down from the top of the fireplace and began tugging Roland towards him. “Something brought you here, Roland. Whether it be fate, or destiny-”

“A horse.”

“So I have-a horse?” Roland nodded. Virgil shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I have made the horrible decision to trust you.”

“Hey, that’s not a horrible-”

“But trust me when I tell you this.” With one hard tug, Virgil had Roland balancing on the front chair legs, only held up by his arm. “You can tear this tower apart, but you’ll never be able to find your precious satchel, with what I can only assume is a stolen crown, without my help.”

“I don’t understand. You just want to see the lanterns and come home? And then you’ll give me my satchel back, no questions asked?” Roland was so close that his breath heated Virgil’s skin, in more ways than one.

“It’s a promise. And I  _ never _ break a promise.”

Roland looked at Virgil for a few seconds, brown eyes meeting green.

“Alright, I’ll take you.”

“Really?!” Virgil was so happy that he let go of the chair, barely hearing Roland’s grunt of pain as the man hit the floor.

He was  _ finally _ leaving the tower.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Guilting, sharp weapons

Roland headed over to the window and threw the shutters open.

He then realized he had two problems. He turned back and found Virgil stifling a laugh.

“Didn’t plan on how to get down, did you?” He asked between giggles.

Roland swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected to be sassed by some guy in a tower. And he  _really_  hadn’t expected said guy’s giggles to sound so cute. His shoulders drooped as he realized he had to admit defeat. “No, I did not. But that’s not the only problem. Your hair…it’s going to attract some attention.”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, the silver strands falling through his fingers. “You’re right. But I…well, I made something that might help with that.”

Roland watched as Virgil darted past a curtain into a room he’d never even realized was there. He heard drawers opening and closing as Virgil rummaged around. The curtain fluttered as he reappeared.

A black, hooded cloak was draped over his shoulders, held together with a button and some string. Plaid purple patches,  _say that five times fast_ , were sewn on randomly, causing Roland to raise an eyebrow.

“They’re a part of my baby blanket,” Virgil admitted, flushing a pretty pink. “Father told me to burn it, but…I-I just couldn’t.”

“It looks perfect.”  _Just like you._  Gesturing to the window, Roland said, “But we still have a problem.”

“Oh, that. Come here,” Virgil said, throwing his hair over the hook. Emile clambered up onto his shoulder.

“What are you-”

Virgil ignored him, climbing up onto the windowsill. The ground was a lot farther down than he anticipated, but he gestured for Roland anyway. “Let’s go.”

Roland climbed up next to Virgil, who looped his hair around the two of them. “How are you planning on getting d _ **OWN!**_ ”

Roland screamed as Vigil jumped, sending them plummeting towards the ground.

The hair acted like a bungee, gently bouncing them to the grass. Roland’s mouth hung open as Virgil untied them.

Roland flopped face first into the mud, but Virgil clung to his hair, his foot hanging a few inches over the grass. He tentatively placed one bare foot on the ground, a smile instantly spreading across his face. He laughed, dropping down to roll in the grass.

Seeing Roland’s confused expression, Virgil jumped to his feet again, hiding behind his hair. “Everything smells just like I dreamed it would.”

“You really haven’t been out of that tower.” Roland stared at Virgil, wondering why his father had never let him out. Shaking the thought out of his head, he said, “Come on. It’s gotta be a day’s walk from here to the castle, so we’d better get going.”

As they picked their way towards the castle, Roland had to watch Virgil change his mind about a dozen times. The poor guy was terrified that his father would find out.

“I’m sensing that there’s some friction between you and your father?” He asked as Virgil laid face-down in the dirt. Emile sat next to Virgil, glaring at Roland.

“What? No, there’s no friction!” Virgil sat upright, his hair falling in his face. “I just…I wasn’t supposed to leave the tower. But then you came along, and I felt like…I felt like I could trust you. I don’t know what it is, but I knew that you could take me to the lights and still have me back before father gets home.”

“You know, all of the kids at-” Roland stopped himself, gathering his thoughts. “All kids at some point or another rebel. And a little adventuring is good for the soul.”

Emile let out a little growl, but Virgil ignored the chameleon. “You think?”

“I would know. Look at me! I’m having the time of my life as an adventurer!” Roland leaned against a rock. “Does your father deserve it? Probably not. Would it break his heart? Of course! But you have to do this. You have to be your own person.”

“Break his heart?” Virgil’s voice trembled. Emile growled even louder, this time in Virgil’s ear.

“Into a million tiny pieces.” Roland could see the resolution draining from Virgil’s eyes and felt the guilt creep into his gut.

Virgil started to stand. Roland put a hand under his elbow and helped him up, avoiding the beady eyes of Emile. “He-he would be heartbroken. You’re right.”

“Am I? Oh no.” Roland shrugged his shoulders, trying to keep the guilt from rising any further. “You know what? I’m letting you out of the deal.”

Virgil’s head snapped up. “What?”

“That’s right,” Roland said, picking up the discarded frying pan. He grimaced at the memory of it hitting him. Multiple times. “Don’t thank me. Let’s just turn around and get you home.”

He handed the pan to a surprised Virgil, who shoved him. “No!”

“No?”

“I…I have to see the lanterns. If I don’t go now-there won’t-I might never get another chance to see them.” Virgil pulled the hood up on his cloak, nearly dislodging Emile from his shoulder.

The damn in Roland’s gut broke and he immediately felt horrible. Here he was, potentially rescuing a man-in-distress like a hero, and he was offering to stop their deal.

Before he could apologize, the bushes began to rustle. Virgil gasped and darted behind Roland, tentatively leaning over his shoulder. It took everything in Roland’s power not to shiver when he felt the hot breath on the back of his neck.

“Is it ruffians?” Virgil asked, a hint of panic in his voice. “Thugs?”

A rabbit hopped out of the bush, looking up at the two of them. Roland struggled not to laugh, instead kneeling down and holding out his hand. “I don’t think this little guy will hurt you.”

The rabbit hopped forward to Roland’s hand and started sniffing. Laughter bubbled out of his mouth as the whiskers tickled his fingers. Twisting slowly so as not to scare the rabbit, he reached out his other hand to Virgil. “Trust me.”

Virgil placed his hand in Roland’s. Roland pulled Virgil forward, urging him to put his hand on the ground. When he did, the rabbit hopped over and sniffed Virgil’s hand.

“That tickles,” Virgil giggled, slowly leaning forward. The hood slipped off his head, giving Roland full view of the smile on his face.

The rabbit nuzzled his face into Virgil’s palm before hopping off.

“Thank you,” Virgil said, turning to face Roland. He froze, realizing their faces were inches apart.

Roland felt his heartbeat speed up as he gazed into Virgil’s eyes. Before he could be tempted to kiss him senseless, he jumped to his feet.  _You can’t fall in love with him. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart broken._  “Well, we should keep going. I know a place we can stop for lunch.”

Virgil gave him a confused look. “We’re in the woods. Where is there a place for lunch?”

“It’s a great place, I promise.” Roland grabbed Virgil’s hand and started dragging him along.

They walked for what felt like an hour before a heavenly smell reached Roland’s nose. He pulled Virgil onto a path, searching for the building.

“I know it’s-there it is!” He slid one arm around Virgil’s thin waist, gesturing with his other hand. “The Snuggly Duckling.”

Virgil tried his best not to lean into Roland’s touch. “It’s cute.”

“Come on, let’s eat!” Roland steered them toward the building, only feeling a little bad at what he was about to do. He threw the door open. “Garçon, your finest table please!”

Virgil let out a loud gasp as he took in the thugs in the restaurant. He froze, unsure whether to wield his frying pan or hide in his cloak.

Roland pushed Virgil through the crowd. If Virgil could handle himself here, he’d be less scared the rest of the trip.

Roland began to talk about their food, which actually was amazing, when Virgil’s head abruptly tilted backwards. One of the thugs had grabbed his hair.

Trembling, Virgil grabbed his hair and ran deeper into the restaurant. The silver strands slid through the thug’s hands as he stared. “That’s a lot of hair.”

“He’s growing it out,” Roland said quickly as he headed over to Virgil. “Are you sure you want to head to the castle? If you can handle this place, the castle will be a breeze. But if you can’t even handle it here…maybe I should take you home.”

As he spoke, he pulled Virgil back toward the door. Just before they could leave, the door slammed shut. Roland’s eyes widened slightly as he realized his wanted poster was underneath the man’s hand.

“Is this you?” He asked, the horns on his helmet looking awfully sharp.

“Oh, it’s him alright,” another thug said, his hook glinting in the candlelight as he advanced. “Greno, go find some guards. That reward can buy me a potion from that ridiculous magician in the castle. I can finally grow my hand back.”

Virgil’s hand left his grip as Roland was picked up by one of the other thugs. They all began arguing about who could use the money. Roland felt his stomach turn as he was pulled in every direction.

_This must’ve been how Virgil felt._

He could hear Virgil’s cries of protest, but they weren’t enough to stop the thugs.

The thugs grabbed his limbs, holding him still for the hook-handed man-a thug Roman vaguely remembered was named Gunnar. He readied his punch, making Roland shut his eyes. “Please, just not the face.”

Roland flinched as he heard a loud  _THWACK!_  He opened one eye to see the thugs had all stopped their clamoring.

Virgil stood behind them, frying pan held in both hands. The anger shone clear on his face. “Put him down!”

Gunnar slowly turned to face Virgil.

“Please hear me out!” He cried, gripping the frying pan. Pure fear was making him shake. “I  _don’t_  know where I am. Even if I wanted to go home, I wouldn’t be able to find my way. I need  _him_  to escort me to the lanterns because I’ve been dreaming about seeing them up close my entire life! Haven’t  _any_  of you  _ever_  had a dream?”

Ice ran through Roland’s veins. There was absolutely no way that this would work. He took a step forward, but was grabbed by a thug and hung on a hook in the wall. Kicking his legs, Roland cursed himself. The one time he was wearing his tailored clothes. His other shirt would’ve ripped immediately and let him get to Virgil.

Stuck, he could only watch as Gunnar advanced on Virgil, who backed up against the bar.

Instead of killing Virgil, the man’s shoulders stiffened. “I had a dream once.”

The thud of the axe made Roland wince, but it wasn’t stuck in Virgil’s skull. It had stuck to the wall above the accordionist’s head. The poor guy jumped and started playing a tune.

Roland stared. There was no way-

“ _I’m malicious, mean, and scary. My sneer could curdle dairy. And violence-wise my hands are not the cleanest._ ” Gunnar gestured to an outline on the floor. An axe stuck out of the head of the outline, which made Virgil take a small step back.

“ _But despite my evil look and my temper and my hooook, I’ve always yearned to be a concert pianist!_ ” Gunnar threw a thug out of his way, before continuing his song on the piano, in perfect tune. “ _Can’t you see me on the stage performing Mozart? Tickling the ivories till they gleam!_ ”

Gunnar threw a wink at Virgil, who’d begun to smile. “ _Yep, I’d rather be called deadly for my killer show tune medley! Thank you! Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dreaaaam!_ ”

Roland watched, extremely confused, as the other bar patrons joined in.

“ _He’s got a dream! He’s got a dream!_ ”

“ _See I ain’t as cruel and vicious as I seeeeem!_ ” Virgil, who’d sat down next to Gunnar, ducked as the man threw his arm out. Gunnar hit another thug straight in his giant nose, knocking him down. “ _Though I do like breaking femurs, you can count me with the dreamers. Like everybody else I’ve got a dream!_ ”

The big-nosed thug sat up, joining in with his own verse. “ _I’ve got scars and lumps and bruises. Plus something here that oozes. And let’s not even mention my complexiooooon!!_ ” He held up his foot, and Roland’s eyes widened. “ _But despite my extra toes and my goiter and my nose, I really wanna make a love connection!_ ”

The thug pulled a flower out of nowhere, handing it to a smiling Virgil. “ _Can’t you see me with a special little honey? Rowing in a rowboat down the streeeeeam. Though I’m one disgusting blighter, I’m a lover, not a fighter, cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!_ ”

Virgil laughed as the thug and the other patrons went back and forth.

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _He’s got a dream!_ ”

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _He’s got a dream!_ ”

“ _And I know one day romance will reign supreme! Though my face leaves people screaming, there’s a child behind it dreaming. Like everybody else I’ve got a dream!_ ”

Virgil glanced around the bar as the other thugs revealed their dreams.

“ _Thor would like to quit and be a florist!_ ” The thug held out a bouquet of the most gorgeous flowers Roland had ever seen. He couldn’t help the jealous feeling in his gut as they were given to Virgil.

Another thug gestured to a beautifully decorated corner of the bar. “ _Gunther does interior design!_ ”

“ _Ulf is into mime! Attila’s cupcakes are sublime! Bruiser knits, Killer sews, Fang does little puppet shows._ ”

“ _And Vladimir collects ceramic unicornsssssss._ ” Gunnar sang, before his focus was back on Roland once more. “What about you?”

“Me?”

The big-nosed thug pulled him off the hook. “What’s your dream?”

“Well, since you asked…” Not one to shy away from a chance to sing, Roland climbed up onto the bar. “ _I have dreams, like you – no, really! Just much more touchy-feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and happy. In a castle that I own, loved and trusted, not aloneeeee! Even if it sounds a little sappy._ ”

Roland couldn’t help but look at Virgil as he sang.

_What would it be like to share that life with him?_

The other patrons began to sing along with him, snapping him out of his dream.

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _He’s got a dream!_ ”

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _He’s got a dream!_ ”

“ _I just want to see the floating lanterns gleam!_ ” Roland’s jaw dropped at how well Virgil could sing. The thugs cheered and lifted Virgil up onto the bar beside Roland. “ _And with every passing hour, I’m more glad I left my tower! Like all you lovely folks I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _He’s got a dream! He’s got a dream! They’ve got a dream! We’ve got a dream! So our differences ain’t really that extreme! We’re one big team!_ ” Gunnar pulled Roland off the bar, spun him around and dipped him, making the thief laugh. “ _Call us brutal, sick, sadistic and grotesquely optimistic cause way down deep inside we’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ”

“ _I’ve got a dream!_ ” Virgil sang once more, gently lifted down and twirled around by Vladimir. “ _Yes, way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!_ ”

Vladimir lifted Virgil onto a table. The man positively beamed before cheering with the thugs.

That is, until the door slammed open and Greno shouted, “I found the guards!”

Roland panicked, grabbing Virgil and pulling him under the bar. Just as they hid, he heard the guards asking for him, demanding that he be found. As he peered over the table, Roland’s heartbeat went into overdrive at seeing the guards lead the Stabbington brothers in.

A hook appeared in his vision, nearly making him wet himself. Gunnar opened a trapdoor. “Go. Live your dream.”

“I will.” Roland breathed out, looking down to his freedom.

Gunnar tapped him on the back of the head. “Your dream…it’s mediocre. I was talking to him.”

With an eye roll, Roland crawled into the hole.

“Thank you. For everything.” Virgil said, before shuffling into the darkness.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: anxiety, blades (bc swordfights)

“It’s a good thing I found this lantern, isn’t it Virgil?” Roland glanced back, seeing Virgil wrapping his cloak a little tighter around himself. Wracking his brain, Roland tried to think of something positive. “I’ve gotta say, I didn’t know you had it in you to join them back there. It was pretty impressive. And your voice is exquisite.”

“It is?”

Roland felt horrible when he heard the tiniest bit of hope in Virgil’s voice. The poor guy clearly hadn’t been praised for anything in his life. “Of course.”

They walked a little farther before he heard Virgil clear his throat. “So…Roland. Where - where are you from?”

“Sorry, Virge. You have to unlock my backstory” The lantern swung around as Roland talked. “Though, I’m hoping I’ve unlocked yours. Obviously I’m not supposed to mention the hair.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Or your father.”

Virgil tugged on his sleeves. “Nope.”

“And I’m a little too scared of your green…frog?”

The corners of Virgil’s lips twitched into a smile. “Chameleon.”

“Cham-that makes so much more sense!” Roland shook his head. “Now, the question that’s been burning at the back of my mind…if you wanted to see the lanterns so badly…why didn’t you go before?”

“Um…” Virgil fidgeted, glancing at Emile. The chameleon looked over at Roland before gently shaking his head.

Before Virgil could even think of something to say, the rocks at their feet began to vibrate. Breathing heavily, Virgil reached out. “Roland?”

An army of soldiers rounded the corner, coming at them at full speed.

“Roland!” The lead shoulder shouted, anger burning in his eyes.

Roland gathered up Virgil’s hair and shoved it into his arms. “Run!”

The two of them found an exit, blinking as they entered harsh sunlight. A rickety ladder lead down into an empty ravine, which held another cave.

Before Roland could say another word, the Stabbington brothers broke out of a closed off cave. Their need for revenge was obvious as they glared up at Roland.

“Who - who are they?” Virgil stuttered, curling into Roland’s side.

Roland took half a second to appreciate Virgil’s trust in him before saying, “They don’t like me.”

“And who are  _they_?” Virgil’s voice was almost a squeak.

The soldiers had finally caught up with them and were not happy.

Roland gulped. “They don’t like me either.”

Virgil’s eyes widened as a white horse followed the soldiers. “What about him?”

Running a hand through his hair, Roland said, “Let’s just assume that no one in the kingdom likes me, okay?”

“Here.” Virgil practically threw the frying pan at Roland, knocking the breath from his lungs. Taking a deep breath, he lassoed his hair around a broken beam before leaping off.

With ease, he landed across the ravine, before looking back at Roland.

The soldiers took their opportunity to advance. The leader threw away his wooden torch. “I’ve waited such a long time for this.”

Realizing his only way out was to fight, Roland brandished the frying pan and smacked the soldier, sending him to the ground. He fought his way through the soldiers with ease, taking all of them out.

“Dang, I have got to get one of these!”

The swish of a sword made him jump. He turned, only to find the horse with a sword in its mouth. “Oh, come -”

The horse moved and Roland had to roll out of the way. Doing his best, he tried to fight off the horse, but for some crazy reason the horse was an excellent sword fighter.

“This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done!” He called out, before the frying pan was knocked from his hands. “Care to give me another shot?”

His hands flew up in surrender as the horse held the sword to his neck. He distantly heard Virgil calling his name, but didn’t dare turn in case he became a shishkebab.

Silky silver strands wrapped around his hand and he let out a shriek as he was pulled off his feet and swung across the ravine.

“Watch out!” Virgil called from above.

The Stabbington brothers stood below, grins on their faces and daggers out. Just before he could be sliced to shreds, Virgil yanked. Roland lifted his feet, soaring over them. He turned, laughing at their stunned looks.

Before he turned back and hit a wall face first.

Virgil tugged hard, trying to help, when he heard the splintering of wood. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the horse running toward him over a makeshift bridge.

“Come on, Virgil!” Roland, who had righted himself, yelled from below. “Jump! I promise, I’ve got you!”

Without a second thought, Virgil jumped. He swung down, skimming the water below, before grabbing his hair and continuing forward. He could hear Roland running behind him and didn’t look back, heading straight for the cave entrance.

Virgil let out a shriek as they barely made it inside.

Water rushed into the cave, making Virgil panic.

“We’re going to die in here!”

Roland took a deep breath before diving under the water. Virgil climbed as high as he could, pulling his knees to his chest.

“In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.”

Roland surfaced and started trying to push at the rocks on the wall, cutting his hand in the process. He rinsed it in the rising water before diving below once more.

Emile squeaked, rubbing up against Virgil’s cheek. The action calmed Virgil enough to start to think clearly.

“It’s no use.” Roland coughed and sputtered. “It’s pitch black, I couldn’t see an exit if I tried.”

“If I’d never left my tower, this never would’ve happened. It’s - it’s all my fault.” Tears began to pour down Virgil’s face as he sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Roland.”

“Roman.”

Rubbing his eyes, Virgil turned. “What?”

A resigned look crossed Roman’s face. “My name. It’s not - it’s not Roland King. My real name is Roman. Someone might as well know.”

“I have magic hair that glows when I sing.” Virgil confessed, before a realization dawned on him.

“What?”

“I have magic hair that glows when I sing!” The water was nearing the top of the cave, making them run out of air and time. “ _Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine_!”

Virgil sucked in a deep breath before the water completely filled the cave. Silver lit up the water, revealing a section where the water was pouring out.

Roman swam over and started pulling out rocks just as the light was fading.

He broke through the wall a second later and the pressure pushed the rocks out of the way, flinging the two of them into the river.

Coughing, Virgil waded to the shore, pulling himself up. He glanced around in a panic, only relaxing when he saw Emile clinging to his hair for dear life.

“We made it?”

“His hair glows.”

“We’re alive!” Virgil laughed as he collapsed onto the grass.

“I didn’t see that coming.”

Remembering something, Virgil turned around. “Roman?”

“The hair actually glows.” Roman said to Emile.

“Roman.”

Panic started to fill Roman’s voice. “Why does it glow?”

“ROMAN!” Virgil shouted.

“What?!”

Pulling the rest of his hair out of the water, Virgil began to wring it out. “It doesn’t just glow.”

Roman looked horrified, and that look only grew as he looked down at Emile. “Why is he smiling at me?”

“Come on, we should get a fire started. I really hope you know how to do that, because I don’t, and I don’t want to freeze to death, and oh my god what if we -”

“Virgil.” Roman staggered to his feet. “It’s okay. I can build a fire.”

Within twenty minutes, they had the beginnings of a fire going. Roman had explained everything to Virgil, who’d managed to get it started on his first try. They were going to need more firewood, but Virgil had sat him down.

“Okay, please don’t freak out again, but I need to show you what else I - my hair can do.” Virgil said as he wound the hair around Roman’s cut. “Promise me you’ll stay calm. Because if you’re not calm, I won’t be calm, and it’ll be a vicious cycle for the both of us.”

“I’ll stay calm. Promise.”

Not even a moment later, Virgil’s heavenly voice filled his ears. “ _Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine_.”

Roman let out a quiet gasp as Virgil’s hair began to glow once more. Emile smiled again, lifting up a hand and pointing.

“ _Heal what has been hurt. Change the Fates’ design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine…what once was mine._ ”

As Virgil’s hair changed back to its usual color, Roman pulled the wrapped hair off his hand. His skin was completely smoothed over, looking good as new. He stared at it, a million thoughts running through his head.

“Roman?”

“Now I see why I couldn’t ask about the hair.” Roman smiled as Virgil let out a giggle. “But if I can ask now…how long has - you know.”

“Ever since I can remember. Father…he says when I was a baby people tried to cut it. They wanted the magic for themselves. The problem with that is that there’s no magic when it’s cut.” Virgil pulled his hair back, revealing a cut section. “Once it’s cut it turns black and dead. A pow - a gift like that…needs to be locked away from those that would abuse its power. That’s why Father never let me - that’s why I stayed.”

“You never left that tower.” Roman bad feeling about Virgil’s father was just getting worse. “You still want to go back?”

“No. Yes. I - I don’t know.” Virgil sighed, putting his head in his hands. Emile crawled onto his foot. He welcomed the familiar weight. “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t sound complicated to me. If you wanted, there’s many places in the kingdom that would take you in.” He didn’t know why exactly, but Roman knew that Virgil couldn’t go back to that tower.

Virgil groaned, lifting his head. “But you don’t  _know_  that.”

“Actually…I do.”

Virgil looked up, meeting Roman’s eyes. “What?”

“I was - I  _am_ …an orphan. I was talking about the orphanages.” Roman looked at the ground as the words began to tumble out of his mouth. “My parents abandoned me as a baby. I was found on the doorstep of the orphanage and they took me in and raised me. For a while, everything was good. A few times, King Patton came in and read to us. He told us that we could be anything we wanted to be.

“But then…things got bad. Money grew tight. They asked the Kings for help, but I don’t think the request ever got past the gates of the castle. And once King Patton got sick…they stopped asking. The nice adults left and mean ones came in. They called me boy, and never even gave me a last name. So when I left, I called myself King, because that’s what I wanted to be. If I was King, I could help those in need. As for Roland…it sounded better.” Roman lifted his gaze from the grass to find tears in Virgil’s eyes.

A few spilled out as Virgil stared at him. “Why did you become a thief if you only ever wanted to help people?”

“I was hoping to sell the things I stole and give the money to the orphanage.” Roman winced. “And now that I say it out loud, I hear how bad it sounds.”

A genuine look of happiness shone in Virgil’s eyes. It was a sight that Roman would never get enough of, and he never wanted it to leave.

_You’re just going to break his heart._

Clearing his throat, Roman got up. “Fire’s starting to get dim, I’d better get some more firewood.”

“Hey.” Virgil called out, stopping Roman in his tracks. “For the record, I think Roman is much better than Roland.”

“Well, that makes you the first and only one to think so. But…thank you.”

Flashing Virgil a smile, Roman disappeared into the forest.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: anxiety, manipulative/abusive deceit

A deep chuckle echoed through the trees. Virgil’s blood turned to ice.

“I thought he’d  _never_ leave.”

Slowly, Virgil turned around. A familiar dark shape stood in the shadows. His yellow eye glinted in the firelight. “F-father?”

“Hello, dear.” He stalked forward, hood sliding off his head.

“I-I - how -” Virgil stiffened as Dorian hugged him. It felt cold and wrong. “How did you find me?”

Dorian began petting Virgil’s hair. Each pass grew more firm until his nails were scraping against Virgil’s scalp.  “Oh, it was easy. I just followed the path of complete and utter betrayal.”

A squeak left Virgil’s mouth. Swallowing his welling anxiety, he took a step back, out of the hug. “Father -”

“We’re going home.” Dorian’s tone left no room for argument. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist in an iron grip and started walking towards the inky blackness. “Now.”

Virgil tumbled forward at the movement, reaching for Dorian’s arm. “You - you don’t understand! I’ve been on this - on an incredible adventure! There are so many things that I’ve seen and learned…I - I even met someone.”

A chuckle left Dorian’s mouth. “Oh, you mean the wanted thief? Dear, I’m so proud.”

Tightening his grip, Dorian dragged Virgil towards the forest once more. Virgil pulled back with a strength he didn’t know he possessed, slipping out of the hold. “Father, wait! There might - I think…I think he likes me.”

“Likes you?” Dorian fixed Virgil with a look that had terrified him as a child. “ _ **You?**_  That’s demented.”

Seeing Virgil’s shoulders droop, Dorian took his chance. He began to sing, hoping to get through to Virgil.

“ _This is why you never should’ve left_.” He rested his head against a tree, attempting to calm his anger. “ _Dear, this whole romance that you’ve invented…just proves you’re too naive to be here._ ”

A grin crossed Dorian’s face when Virgil jumped at the light touch on his shoulders. “ _Why would he like you? Come on now, really. Look at you, you look like such a mess._ ”

He moved into the edge of the trees, extending his arms. “ _Don’t be a bother, come with father. Father -_ ”

“NO!”

The word rang out, shocking both of them. As soon as he got over the shock, Virgil’s gaze hardened.

He wasn’t backing down this time.

Done holding back his anger, Dorian glared. “No? Oh…I see.”

He stalked forward. Virgil’s fear got the better of him and he scrambled backwards. “ _Virgil knows best, Virgil’s so mature now. You think you’re in for a kiss? Virgil knows best. Fine, if you’re so sure now, go ahead and give him this!_ ”

Reaching into his cloak, Dorian pulled out the satchel he’d found in the tower.

Virgil’s eyes flew wide. “How -”

“ _ **This** is why he’s here._” The tiara was pulled out and tossed at Virgil. “ _Don’t let him deceive you. Give it to him, watch, you’ll see!_ ”

Determination spread across Virgil’s face. “I will!”

“ _Trust me my dear,_ ” Dorian snapped his fingers, “ _That’s how fast he’ll leave you. I won’t say I told you so. No, VIRGIL knows best. So if he’s such a dreamboat, go and put him to the test!_ ”

An itching sensation dug under Dorian’s skin. His magic was wearing off. As he sang his final lines, he pulled up his hood. “ _If he’s lying, don’t come crying! Father knows best!_ ”

Knowing it was dangerous to his health, Dorian flipped his cloak and used his magic to disappear.

If Virgil wanted to be an adult, he’d learn  _just_ what that meant.

Virgil was left alone, shaking, staring at the tiara in his hands. Roman would stay.

Right?

“So, can I ask you something?”

Panicking, Virgil hid the tiara once more. He’d find a better time to give it to Roman. A time when he could explain.

Twigs snapped as Roman made his way through the forest, back to the fire. “Is there any chance I’m going to get super strength in my hand? It would really add to the whole dashing hero pers - are you alright?”

The wood clattered to the ground. Roman was at Virgil’s side in an instant, gently turning him around.

Virgil gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Sorry, I was…lost in thought, I guess.”

Disbelief shone in Roman’s eyes, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he began to ramble on about how great being a superhero would be. Virgil was content to listen, the deep rumble slowly lulling him to sleep.

Virgil woke up to Roman screaming. Looking around, he saw Roman being dragged off by the same horse from earlier.

Dashing forward, he grabbed Roman’s arms and pulled back. Roman’s foot popped out of the boot in the horse’s mouth, sending him and Virgil tumbling to the grass.

Shaking off the daze, Virgil’s face burned as he realized they were pressed nose to nose.

The horse whinnied and charged them. Rolling Roman off, Virgil jumped to his feet, holding out his arms. “Woah! Woah, woah, woah! Easy boy, easy!”

The horse looked at Virgil warily, but he stopped trying to get to Roman.

“I hope this works,” Virgil mumbled. “Sit.”

The horse lowered himself, but he wasn’t fully on the ground.

“Sit!”

The horse dropped the ground. Roman let out offended noises behind them. Virgil smiled. “Now drop the boot.”

The horse huffed.

“Drop it.”

Opening his mouth, the horse let the boot drop.

“Aww. You’re such a good boy! Yes you are!” Virgil moved forward, petting his face. “Are you tired from chasing this bad man all over the place?”

“Excuse me??”

“Nobody appreciates you, do they?” Virgil hugged the horse tightly. “Do they?”

The horse snorted, lowering his head and pressing it against Virgil’s back.

“Come on!” Roman called out, not having moved from where he was dumped in the grass. “He’s a bad horse!”

“Oh, hush. He’s nothing but a big sweetheart! Isn’t that right…” Virgil scratched the horse’s chin, trying to read the harness. Something about the symbol seemed oddly familiar. “Maximus?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Maximus looked around Virgil, locking eyes with Roman. Not wanting more trouble, Virgil stepped between them. “Look. I don’t know if you can understand me, but I hope you can. Today…well, it’s kind of a big deal. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to not get him arrested.”

Reaching out, Virgil helped Roman to his feet. “Just for 24 hours. Then you can chase each other all over the world. Okay?”

Letting out a sigh, Roman held out a hand. “You really think he understands?”

The horse looked away stubbornly.

Virgil rocked on his heels. “Please? It’s - it’s my birthday.”

Roman’s jaw dropped as the horse held out a hoof. They shook, somehow agreeing on a truce.

“Great! Now -” Virgil looked past them for the first time, the breath leaving his lungs. “The castle.”

He darted through the gates, stopping just before the main square. Amazed, he went to take another step forward, only to be nearly run over by a cart. He jumped backwards, stumbling when someone stepped on his hair.

Roman ran up, gathering hair as he approached. They needed a solution, and fast.

Looking over, he saw a group of sisters braiding each other’s hair. He whistled, getting their attention, and held up the hair in his arms.

Within moments, they were braiding Virgil’s hair. He couldn’t help but giggle along with them as they ducked under each other’s arms, weaving the braid expertly.

When they finished, the ran around to face him. “We can put flowers in it if you want!”

“You can do whatever you want.” He told them, seeing their faces light up in joy.

If this was how the kids at the orphanage felt, how could the king have stopped going to see them?

“Finished!” They chorused together.

Virgil looked over his shoulder. From what he could see, it looked beautiful. “Ro - what do you think?”

Roman was looking at him with a bit of a dazed gaze. Blood rushed to Virgil’s cheeks.

He really hoped Father was wrong.

“You look amazing.” Roman breathed out. After a moment, he shook his head, trying to clear it. “How about we check out some of the stands?”

“The stands?” Looking around, Virgil realized that there were tons of different stands and booths as far as he could see. Some sold different pastries, some fruits, and some crafts. “What’s all this for?”

“You didn’t think they just let off the lanterns, did you?” Roman walked over, grabbing Virgil’s hands. “It’s a festival.”

The two began to browse various booths.  Roman bought Virgil a small piece of fabric with the royal crest on it. It was a beautiful eight pointed star. The silver paint shimmered against the purple fabric.

A few children ran by, holding various colors of chalk. Virgil followed them to a more subdued part of the square to find them drawing on the street.

The looked up as he walked over to them. “Mind if I join?”

A little girl with a torn dress grabbed his hand and dragged him to the pile of chalk. Virgil thought for a moment before grabbing a purple and a gray. He drew quickly and with practiced ease, standing when he was done. He wiped his arm on his forehead before gesturing towards his masterpiece.

The exact replica of the royal crest had all the children in awe, as well as several adults. Roman was shocked at the skill Virgil had. He turned to give praise, laughing when he saw the smear of purple on Virgil’s forehead.

“Let me help you with that.” Roman said, reaching out and carefully wiping off the chalk.

The jingling of guard uniforms had them taking off. They hid in line for cupcakes, grabbing their order and moving to an alcove before they were spotted. The guards passed right by them, making Virgil giggle.

He glanced up to find Roman giving him another fond look. He could feel himself start to blush and opted to hide it by digging into the cupcake. A slight lemon flavor burst over his tongue, making him hum with delight.

After they finished the cupcakes, they decided it would be best to hide out for a little longer. Remembering the few books he’d seen on Virgil’s bookshelf, Roman dragged him into a nearby bookstore. Virgil was in awe at how many books the small shop held.

Looking around, Roman grabbed an atlas. “Care to see the world?”

Virgil’s eyes lit up and he grabbed the book, placing it on the floor. Roman knelt next to him, pointing out the kingdoms he’d read about at a child.

“Over here is Atlantis, though no one thinks it exists.” Roman pointed to a spot in the ocean. He moved his finger across the map, pointing fairly close by. “Arendelle is here. I think they’re related to the current kings. I’m not sure, but I believe the queen is King Patton’s cousin.”

Once they were sure the guards were gone, the two headed back out. Virgil pointed to a stand with fresh cheese. While in line, Virgil looked around at the gorgeous village. Not too far off, he spotted a mosaic of the royal family covered in flowers. Two men were holding onto a little baby with a tuft of gray hair.

A young girl and her family sat in front of the art. The girl held a flower in her hand, placing it on the steps. “It’s for the lost prince.”

Before Virgil could get a closer look at the artwork, some local musicians began playing. The music filled his heart with joy and he started dancing. A little boy looked on in awe, a shy smile on his face. Virgil danced his way over, picking the child up and swinging him around. His shrieks of glee drew more townspeople to the square.

Virgil grabbed a few more people before others joined of their own accord. Soon the square was full of people dancing and laughing. He waved Roman in at one point, only to be denied. His smile faltered until he noticed the horse nudge Roman into the fray of people.

Twirling around, the two reached for each other, only to be pulled away at the last moment.

The dancing continued as the sun went down. As the last beat of the song rang out, Virgil found himself thrust into Roman’s arms. The crowd let out a loud cheer.

“To the boats!” A voice called out. The crowd began to disperse, heading for the bay.

Virgil stepped out of Roman’s arms, watching the townspeople leave.

Sucking in a deep breath, Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil’s thin waist. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he felt Virgil relax into his arms. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: anxiety, manipulative/abusive deceit, feeling of abandonment

Roman led Virgil down to the edge of the water, Maximus following close behind. Grabbing one of the public boats, they set off, gently floating into the bay.

A soft whinny had them turning back, seeing Maximus looking sad, standing on the edge of the dock. Before Virgil could say a word, Roman pulled out a bag of apples.

“Hey Max!”

He tossed the apples at the horse’s feet. Virgil couldn’t help but giggle as Max gave Roman a questioning look.

“What? I bought them.” Max began to dig in as Roman started to paddle them further into the bay. “Most of them.”

“Why are we going so far out?” Virgil asked as Roman continued to paddle. He pointed to all the other boats. “They’re all floating just offshore.”

“Virge, it’s the best day of your life.” Roman stiffened slightly as Emile climbed onto his shoulder. As the chameleon settled in, he smiled. “For something like this, you need the best seat in the house.”

The sun began to set as they reached their destination, casting the two of them in a soft golden glow. Roman glanced over, finding himself mesmerized as the light hit Virgil’s hair. And while the man looked positively stunning, something was off.

“Virge? You okay?”

Pulling his cloak tighter, Virgil shook his head. “No…I - I’m terrified. Ro, I’ve been staring out of a window for eighteen years. Seeing those lights rise in the sky…it’s something I’d always dreamed of. What if - what if it’s not what it’s cracked up to be? What if -”

“Virgil.” Roman’s voice was soft as he reached over and took Virgil’s hands. “I promise you, it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

Some of the tension left Virgil’s shoulders, but there was still something he wasn’t saying. He bit his lip for just a moment before it spilled out. “If it’s everything I ever dreamed of…then what? I go back to my tower and remember this moment?”

Roman shook his head. “No, Virge. After this, you get to find a new dream.”

Trumpets sounded at the castle, the music echoing out over the kingdom. Virgil watched intently as the doors to the castle opened and two figures walked out.

“Those are the kings.” Roman explained, shifting in order to wrap his arms around Virgil. The younger man leaned back into his touch. “Once they lift the royal lantern, everyone else is allowed to set theirs off.”

The figures moved and a single lantern made its way into the sky. One followed, then another, and before Virgil could gasp the night sky was filled with light coming from all angles.

As Virgil watched, he couldn’t help but let out all the emotions he was feeling.

_“All those days, watching from the windows. All those years, outside looking in. All that time never even knowing just how blind I’ve been.”_

Careful not to rock the boat, Virgil made his way to the front, gripping the wood so as not to fall off. The lanterns were as bright as the stars, bathing the kingdom in their yellow glow.

_“Now I’m here blinking in the starlight. Now I’m here suddenly I see. Standing here it’s all so clear! I’m where I’m meant to be.”_

Tears started to drip down Virgil’s face. He hastily wiped them away, not wanting Roman to see. A strong pair of hands gently pulled him down onto the seat. Virgil swung his legs over Roman’s lap as he continued to watch the sky.

_“And at last I see the light, and it’s like the fog has lifted. And at last I see the light, and it’s like the sky is new. And it’s warm and real and bright and the world has somehow shifted.”_

Reaching back, Roman pulled out two lanterns. Warmth filled Virgil’s heart as he watched Roman light them before guiding one of them over.

_“All at once, everything looks different, now that I see you.”_

As the words left Virgil’s mouth, Roman blushed. Together, the two of them lifted the lanterns into the sky.

“Ro…I have something for you.” Rummaging in the bottom of the boat, Virgil moved a blanket to uncover the satchel. “I should’ve given it to you before. But I was scared that you’d take it and leave me to the wolves…or something so much worse. But I - I’m not scared anymore. Do you know what I mean?”

Reaching out, Roman lowered the satchel. “I’m starting to.”

 _“All those days, chasing down a daydream.”_  The song flowed out of Roman as he matched the rhythm Virgil had been using. The other man grinned.  _“All those years, living in a blur. All that time, never truly seeing things the way they were.”_

Taking Virgil’s hands once more, Roman continued, baring his feelings for Virgil to see.  _“Now you’re here, shining in the starlight. Now you’re here, suddenly I know. If you’re here, it’s crystal clear, I’m where I’m meant to go.”_

 _“And at last I see the light.”_  A shiver ran up Roman’s spine at how well their voices blended together.

_“And it’s like the fog has lifted.”_

Like magnets, they started to shift closer together.

_“And at last I see the light.”_

_“And it’s like the sky is new.”_

A lantern began to float down toward the water. Both of them reached out, lifting it back toward the sky before rejoining their hands. Virgil moved completely into Roman’s lap, both of them leaning in as they sang.

_“And it’s warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted.  All at once everything is different, now that I see you.”_

Cupping Virgil’s cheek, Roman pulled him in closer.

_“Now that I see you.”_

Their noses brushed and Roman’s eyes started to close. Before he could finally kiss Virgil, a green light on the shore caught his attention. He peered into the darkness, recognizing the Stabbington brothers immediately.

“Ro?”

Virgil looked confused and upset. He glanced back to where Roman was looking, but the thieves had vanished. “Is…is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’ve never, um…”

“What? No, Virge, you didn’t do anything.” Roman promised, feeling horribly guilty. He picked up the paddle and started to row them towards shore. Pain shot through his heart as Virgil slid off his lap and yanked his hood over his face.

As they neared shore, Roman jumped out and pulled the boat into the sand. He grabbed the satchel, not missing the look of hurt in Virgil’s eyes. “Virgil, I’ll be right back, I swear. I just…there’s something I have to take care of. And then we can continue where we left off - if you still want to.”

There was a beat of silence as Virgil stared him in the eyes. “Okay.”

“Just…two seconds!” Roman called back as he ran off.

Emile climbed onto Virgil’s shoulder, making a buzzing sound. Virgil reached up, stroking the scales. “It’s alright. He’ll - he’ll be right back. He said so.”

After a few minutes, Virgil started to get antsy. He climbed out of the boat and began pacing in the sand, making sure he could see where Roman had disappeared at all times.

A shadow loomed in the distance, making Virgil sigh with relief. “I was starting to think you ran off with the crown and left me.”

The shadow morphed into two. A gasp fell from Virgil’s mouth as he recognized the two brothers.

The taller one smirked. “He did.”

“What? No, he said - he wouldn’t do that!”

The other brother chuckled, the sound raising the hairs on Virgil’s arms. He waved a hand toward the open water. “”See for yourself.”

Turning, Virgil covered his mouth. He could see Roman, clear as day, steering a ship toward the castle. “Ro? Roman!”

“A fair trade.” Virgil whimpered as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “A crown for the boy with magic hair. How much do you think someone would pay to stay young and healthy forever?”

Tearing himself free, Virgil backed up toward the water. “No, please. No!”

One of them pulled out a sack. Fight or flight kicking in, Virgil took off along the beach, tripping over a few loose stones. He vaulted over a log, only to be yanked backwards as his hair got caught. Tears poured down his face as he tugged, desperately trying to get free.

He heard a few distant thuds.

“Virgil!”

“Father?”

Less panicked, Virgil freed himself before moving back toward the beach. Dorian stood over the brothers, a branch in his hand. When he saw Virgil, he dropped it. “My precious boy.”

“Father.”

Sobs wracked Virgil’s body as he all but dove into his father’s arms. Arms that wrapped around him immediately, stroking his hair. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“How did you -”

“I know what I said, but I was worried about you.” Dorian said as he continued to check Virgil’s hairline. “I saw them attack you and…oh, let’s go, let’s go! Before they come to, I can’t take them on a second time.”

Virgil gave one last glance toward Roman’s boat. He wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, but he sniffed as they began to fall. Crying harder, he tightened his arms around Dorian’s waist. “You were right, Father. About everything.”

“I know, darling.” Dorian picked up his lantern. He turned away from Virgil, a small smirk making its way onto his face.

“I know.”


End file.
